


Yours If You Want 'Em

by toewsyourheart



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Attraction, Feels, First Meetings, French Fries, M/M, Meet-Cute, Sharing, Waffles, drunk!Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toewsyourheart/pseuds/toewsyourheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick's hungry, is the thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours If You Want 'Em

**Author's Note:**

> drunk!patty/bar meet AU, where only the fries matter.

Patrick’s drunk, is the thing. He’s about five beers deep, a few shots sprinkled in here and there, feeling loose, relaxed, smiley and—

His stomach growls loudly—a low, empty grumble—and fuck, Patrick’s _hungry_ , is the other thing. 

 _Gotta find some food_ , he thinks solidly through his alcohol-induced haze, cursing the tapas restaurant his boy’s girlfriend had dragged them to and the measly tacos they’d tried to pass off as his _meal_. “You mean _this_ is $14?” Patrick had complained, gesturing down to his food, knowing then that he’d pay for the puny portion sizes later. _Now_ , he thinks bitterly. _Later is now_. 

Patrick heaves himself out of the booth, beer in tow, and shuffles through the crowds of people toward the bar. He’s not sure if they serve food, but he’s certainly about to find out. 

As he nears his destination, he catches a whiff of something…something fried, perhaps? and his stomach leaps. Smells _so good_. 

“What is tha—” Patrick wonders aloud, searching hard for the source, and then he spots it. The most glorious, half-eaten plate of french fries he’s ever seen in his _entire_ life. Patrick’s mouth starts to water, stomach feeling _extra_ empty. Then a hand reaches into the plate and Patrick feels slightly territorial over these fries he’s technically got no rights to.

 _But, I want those_ , he thinks petulantly… 

Focused on the prize, his eyes automatically follow the fry up to its owner’s mouth and Patrick knows he’s got to be radiating envy as he watches the guy chew and swallow. 

Patrick walks up quickly and plops down next to him. “Hey, man—” he starts, and then blinks, a little stunned, when he gets a good look at Fry Guy—holy… 

Patrick only _thought_ nothing could look better than that plate of fries, but, boy, was he wrong.

Fry Guy is—for lack of a more sophisticated word in his current state of drunken hunger— _hot_. _Like your fries will be_ , Patrick thinks idly, then tries to focus. He’s got dark hair, dark eyes and is clearly fucking _ripped_ beneath his soft gray Henley. Patrick lets his eyes linger for a moment, digs his teeth into his bottom lip. _Mmm_. 

If Patrick weren’t so fucking ravenous, he might have different intentions here, but alas… 

“Where’d you get those?” Patrick asks, nodding toward the plate of golden deliciousness before him. “’M _starving_ ,” he whines, and as if to punctuate the point, his stomach growls again. Patrick licks his lips, looking back and forth between the guy and the fries, and waits for an answer. 

Fry Guy _smirks_ , the smug bastard. He must be able to tell Patrick’s got a boner for his goods—all of them, especially the fries. “Bartender,” he says simply, and Patrick takes a split second to ponder the weirdness of Fry Guy’s accent before he gets his head back in the game and yells out. 

“Bartender! _Heyyyy_ , bar-tend-er!” he shouts, waving his arms toward the guy behind the bar, down at the other end. 

“But the kitchen closed about…twenty minutes ago, I hear,” Fry Guy adds, like it’s the punchline of a ( _not_ funny) joke, and Patrick’s heart breaks… 

“Oh God, _no_!” he groans, pain and disappointment in his voice, and drops his head onto the counter. “’M gonna die.” 

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to _eat_ before you come out to places like this and get wasted?” Smug Fry Guy asks, and Patrick just groans even louder, thinking about that goddamn restaurant depriving him of a decent dinner. 

“’M not _wasted_ ,” Patrick mumbles, rolling his head over on his arm to eye the fries again. “I’m _hungry_ ,” he pouts, and the guy chuckles— _chuckles._ The audacity… 

“C’mon, man, you gotta _share_ if you’re gonna laugh at me,” Patrick protests, desperate at this point. 

“Oh I do, eh?” Fry Guy asks, raising an eyebrow, and he turns on his stool a little, knee bumping against Patrick’s thigh. Then, before Patrick can answer, really start with the begging, he reaches forward, grabs the plate, and drags it over to Patrick. “I would _hate_ to see you waste away right before my very eyes here,” he adds, sounding absolutely as smug as he looks. “They’re yours if you want ‘em.” 

“Oh, fuck, thank you— _god_ ,” Patrick groans and sits up quickly—too quickly—feeling a little dizzy, actually, but it’s probably because he’s dying of hunger, so he doesn’t let it deter him from shoving three fries directly into his mouth. “You’re sure—” Patrick mumbles around his mouthful, reaching to grab two more. so fucking good. “—I can have ‘em?” 

“Would you even let me take it back at this point?” Fry Guy asks, sarcasm thick in his voice, but Patrick takes it as a threat that he’s maybe _thinking_ of taking them back and instinctively shifts the plate away, crowds over it a bit, as he stuffs in a couple more. 

“Nuh uh,” Patrick says quickly. “Jus’ try’na be polite.” 

“Ha— _polite_?” he scoffs. “You’re too busy stuffing my fries in your mouth to even ask me what my name is.” Ah, Fry Guy wants Patrick to know his naaaame. _Hmm_ , he thinks. 

Patrick eats a couple more fries, distracted by how fantastic they are and how _few_ he has left. Definitely not going to cut it—he’ll still need more food after this. 

Patrick turns then, to ask Fry Guy his name, to undo the wrongs he’s done here, and what the fucking hell?! He’s gone. Like, not there anymore. _Gone_. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Patrick breathes out, and he’s still got a few fries, sure, but Patrick can’t help but feel like he missed out on something there. As the seconds tick by, Patrick becomes increasingly grumpy about it, and to add to it, he’s only got two lonelyfries left, which he downs in about two lonely seconds. 

“Ughhnn,” Patrick grumbles, staring into the empty plate. What an unfortunate turn of events. He’d started with delicious fries and hot Fry Guy. Now he’s got neither of those things, a lukewarm beer, and he’s _still_ hungry… 

Then, Patrick hears a pointed throat clear and a grumpy voice from behind him. “Well, are you gonna ask me my fucking name or _what_?” 

Patrick perks up with the quickness. _Fry Guy’s back_ , he thinks, picking up on the accent before he even looks, and spins around immediately, choking out a frantic ‘yes.’ 

Fry Guy is standing behind Patrick, shifty on his feet. He’s got a coat on now—holy fuck, does he wanna go somewhere? —hands shoved in his pockets, and there’s a small, shy smile playing on his lips. God, he’s _so hot_. 

Patrick wastes no time, reaching out his hand, not even caring that it’s probably covered in fry residue. “My name’s Patrick. What’s yours?” 

Fry Guy pulls his hand from his pocket and places it in Patrick’s. His skin is soft, warm, and Patrick feels that warmth all the way to his gut. _Fuck, c’mon, tell me_ , Patrick thinks, desperate now to match a name with this face, to these absolute Bambi eyes staring intensely back at him… 

“Jonathan,” he answers, and Patrick grins, boldly smooths his thumb over the skin on the back of Jonathan’s hand, and he sucks in a quiet breath, almost too quiet for Patrick to hear. 

But Patrick _did_ hear, and god—the way Jonathan’s cheeks are flushing red… He’s _beautiful_. 

“Tell me, Jonathan,” Patrick implores, still not letting go of his hand, grin unwavering. “How do you feel about _Waffle House_?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by true events from my friend's drunken vacation, during which she smashed this poor, unsuspecting guy's fries at a bar. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is welcome & encouraged!
> 
> I can be located on the tumblr @ [toewsme1988](http://toewsme1988.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
